Preheat oven to 350˚. Make sure the oven rack is placed so the top of the pan is in the center of the oven.Grease 2 8”x4” pans or equivalent.Stir first 5 ingredients together (zuc – eggs)Stir in rest of the ingredients except for the raisins and nuts.Stir in raisins and nuts.Cook for 50 – 60 minutes.

Friday, September 25, 2009

It is so easy for me to forgive old friends. I remember the years of good times and forget why I was mad in the first place. This is not true for people I was never good friends with. All those people on facebook that were jerks in high school? Yeah, I do not want to be their friends. It's real nice to see old friends though.

Sonic friggin' ROCKS!

When did I get so old that I check to see if a guy is wearing a wedding band before anything else?

I really want to date guys but I am terrified. I really think that I am scared of men in general. I have a list a mile long of excuses why I cannot date so and so. Ryder alone makes up half my excuse list.

I freaking hate facebook. Seriously. Yet I have to check it hourly. Why? What will I possibly miss? I am really going to try to wean myself off. Just email and farm. Gotta still maintain my farm!

I know that I need to be more social and hang out with friends (read: make friends), but I kinda pride myself on not needing anyone. Although, I guess I kind of do...

I seem to acquire more followers when I write depressing posts. Counter-intuitive. Maybe it is the love-to-watch-a-train-wreck thing. Hopefully it is more of a hey-that-girl-is-really-honest thing.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

My ailment resides in my head. But also on my shoulders. And within my heart. I am glad a superhero can save me because I am afraid that conventional methods have failed. I have tried everything from medication to meditation.

Superhero, save me from my guilt.

I carry around overwhelming guilt and I know that it is unfounded. It is not inflicted by anyone but myself. Although some may be left over from the ex.

I feel guilty about having to use daycare, not having a man around, not cooking well-rounded meals, spending too much money, not doing enough, not cleaning enough, not reading enough, not calling my friends and family, staying up too late, not watching my netflix in a timely manner, not taking my dog out enough, having sweets around, not having sweets around, going to work, not going to work, writing depressing blogs, blah, blah, blah.

She is beautiful. Even before she gets into her dress, she is beautiful. Is this my friend from so many years ago? Her hair done, her makeup perfect, the weight she lost, braces - did she have braces last time I saw her? When was the last time I saw her?

The baby shower. She was one of my only friends that made it. Not unlike I am one of the only friends to make it tonight. That is how you can tell a good friend from a great friend. Even if you haven't spoken for months, years, you know that one phone call or invite and they will be at your side.

She is beautiful. This is her day. The day she exchanges vows with her groom, her partner, her best friend. He looks great. The first time I met him was at their apartment, but I had heard about him way before.

When they first started dating (this was before Happy Feet and March of the Penguins) she explained to me that penguins mate for life. He had told her that she was his penguin. We both thought it was the sweetest thing we'd ever heard. Apparently he was right.

She is beautiful. The hall is perfect. They have done it all themselves from the decorations to the food and cake. It is raining, so the ceremony is moved indoors. I miss it because of a screaming child, but I can see how happy the two of them are. They have both weathered difficulties in life but today, right now, it is just the two of them and their love for one another.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

When I planned to the farm today, I thought that we would buy some fresh fruits and vegetables, play in the corn field, go on a hayride, and see some animals. Not exactly how it happened.

I got directions to Connor Farm, although we could not have missed it. There were people everywhere and a cop directing traffic. Despite this we parked surprisingly close. I must admit that I was a little nervous about going to a farm. Where could we walk and where couldn't we? Would we be imposing? Would we be interrupting a nice farm family's Sunday dinner?

Not at this farm. Bouncy houses? Really? There were people everywhere. And this modest display:

That is a lot of pumpkins.

We walked all the way to the back of the farm to their actual pumpkin patch and got a little one ourselves. There seemed something wrong about a pumpkin patch that didn't have any plants. It was cute though.

Animals. I love animals and was dying to see them. Here they are:

That's it. Two. Two animals. In the same pen. They are cute, but I was disappointed.

Ryder liked the sandbox.

We did not partake in the 2 acre corn maze, because I figured that I would end up just carrying him. I think their maze is the real attraction. We went into the farm stand to pay for our petite pumpkin and pick up some fresh veggies. There were a zillion people in the stand all buying their tickets for the maze. The first food I saw was bananas. Bananas. For some reason, I do not think they were grown at that farm. More disappointment.

I grabbed a squash (of unknown origins) for my friend, some fresh cider donuts and milk and cider that were made at Brooksby Farm, a town over. Next time we will skip the circus and go straight to Brooksby.

Friday, September 18, 2009

I have been watching a lot of Mad Men, so to celebrate, I am sharing with you my five favorite radio spots. I don't have TV, so I didn't even know some of these had videos!

5. Bud Light's Real Men of Genius - Roller Cooler Cooler Roller Guy. There are a bunch of these Real Men of Genius ads, but this is my favorite. I love the last bit the best.

4. Coors Light's Beer Insurance - I cannot find this one anywhere, so I will just have to describe it to you. The announcer is telling the guy that he can buy a cold-activated can and have beer insurance. Basically insurance on the beer being cold. The guy says "This insurance gives me a lot of assurance. Or is it the other way around?" Announcer Man says "No, it is not the other way around." Kills me every time.

3. Earth Share's One - You know me, a tree-hugging hippie.

2. Dos Equis' The Most Interesting Man in the World - Who else wants to fuck this man? Come on. Show of hands. Yeah, I thought so.

1. The Pony Express - This is a generic car dealer ad. I love when the dad explains that he "found him." The horse said "Hello. My name is Albert. Take me home." BLAHAHAHA! I seriously think about this commercial all the time. I think I enjoy these too much!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Mama Kat's question this week is: If you could only focus on three things in life and pursue them fully, leaving everything else, what would they be and why?

I hate love theoretical questions. They make me think too much. My ex and I used to get into serious arguments over them. One notable example was what would happen if aliens landed. This turned into yelling.

Anyways... This question made me realize that the things I am most passionate about are not the same things that are most important to me. Politics for example. I am passionate about politics because it affects us directly and it is being orchestrated by people we've never met. Politics, however, did not make my list. I wonder if this is a mix up of priorities or just practicality.

Family is my first pick. I would nurture relationships and learn more about the people in my family. I would spend more time with Ryder. I would teach him everything I know. I would have my family over for dinners that we would all sit around the table for. I would get to know family members that I don't know well. I would hang out with cousins and aunts. I would tell everyone how much I love them.

Nature is my second. I would lay in the grass and watch the clouds and count the stars. I would go to the Grand Canyon and the rain forests. I would hike mountains and swim in lakes. I would seek out the ivory-billed woodpecker and the elusive pandas. I would go to Antarctica and the Galapagos. I would grow vegetables and raise goats.

Conscientious consumerism is my final choice. I would support local businesses. I would learn which companies used recycled materials and made an effort to reduce packaging. I would learn where my food comes from and who grows it. I would find out which companies lobby for gay marriage and which ones lobby for gun control. I would support companies that give back to the community and not those who give their executives private jets. Most importantly I would share my findings with all who would listen.

My college's hockey team is good. Really really really good. Everyone is a huge hockey fan, because our team is so good. Our basketball team sucks, so no one likes them. You know how it goes.

When our hockey team won, the students rioted. When our hockey team lost, the students rioted. I don't know why we did, I just went.

So, one of these riot nights, which was complete with burning couches in the middle of Main Street, my friend and I grabbed some beers and headed downtown. Everything was pretty crazy, but it was kind of a contained crazy. The cops were there, but didn't do much. (I guess in later years it got worse, but not while I was there.)

We were watching the fire and the crowd and the boys. I saw a boy that I went to high school with. I had seen him around campus and we said hi to each other, but that was all. I pointed him out to my friend, who may have had a couple too many beers, and told her that I thought he was cute. Before I knew what was happening, my friend ran over to him.

Oh, god.

She came running back to tell me how she just told him that I had a crush on him. The next bit is hazy either because of the embarrassment or the beer. We walked over or he walked over, somehow we were talking and I was trying to explain how my friend was really drunk. He agreed, then I think one of us made an excuse to leave.

Friday, September 11, 2009

First, there is a couple at work, V and R, they are post docs (read: supervisors) and they are Indian. They have always talked to each other in Hindi and it never bothered me much. Then two new Indian people started working with us, L and P. P is super and she knows that it is rude to speak in Hindi in front of me so she doesn't. But V and R do and do a lot more now.

Two instances bother me. The first, they were speaking in Hindi, and P made some mistake and they were trying to fix it. R started laughing and looked at me knowingly and gave me the can-you-believe-it look. I asked what happened. He said "She wants to know what happened. You want to tell her?" I would not have cared about any of it, had he not included me, then didn't want to tell me.

The next instance was yesterday. I was working with P. Standing right next to her and V came over to tell her that she was doing something wrong. In Hindi. P then had to translate for me. Why didn't she just say it in English and we all would have understood the first time?

Question: Should I say something? And if so, who should I tell what? The guy in charge above them is absent most of the time. What do you think?

Second, my father-in-law and his wife live in Denver. When I lived out there, they were nice to me. They are really strange, and quite dysfunctional, but nice enough. They haven't met Ryder. They don't call or send cards. Biannually, they email me. While they are nice, I am not particularly fond of them.

Question: I plan on going out there for two weeks. Do you think I have an obligation to spend a day with them? I probably will anyways, but do you think I am obligated?

Finally, while on vacation, I want to go to Yosemite. It will be just Ryder and I.

Question: Do you think it is safe to stay out there by ourselves?

That is all for now. I am sure I will need your opinion again soon enough. Thanks!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

I guess Tova has run out of totally awkward moments, but I have not, so I shall trudge on.

Public transportation turns people into jerks. Even kindergarten teachers are not immune to this phenomenon. People push and shove and hit you with their bags and take up way more than their single allotted seat. Many times, a person will sit on the aisle seat leaving the window seat open. Then you have to ask them if you could sit there, and they have to get up, because you definitely are not going to crawl over them.

This is the situation that I thought I came upon. The bus was packed. People in every seat, people already standing at different intervals in the aisle. I saw this woman sitting on the aisle seat and the window seat appears empty. I ask her very politely if I can sit there, and she reaches over and says "Oh! Of course!" Then she picks up the child that was sitting on the seat.

I immediately try backpedalling. "Oh, I didn't realize that she was sitting there. I am so sorry!"

The woman was so sweet. She said "She can sit on my lap! It's not a problem."

I felt like the biggest jerk who has ever ridden on public transportation. Trying to steal a seat from a child. I squeezed to the back of the bus where I hid out the rest of the ride.

Monday, September 7, 2009

I never wanted to be a writer. Never liked writing essays. Opted for the minor in Humanities instead of a double major because I did not want to write the thesis. Never even really like telling stories. I have always felt like they are boring and my listeners are equally as bored. I did not begin this blog to improve my writing skills or to be "discovered" or anything like that.

I don't know if it is just timing, because I have been so into writing these blogs, or what, but Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl has made me wish I was a beautiful storyteller.

This book is beautifully written. Actually, I think it is amazing. The story is good, but the writing really is what sets it apart. I feel this way about Joyce's Finnigan's Wake (although, admittedly, I have never read it.) Finnigan's Wake is a simple story. It is a good story, but simple enough. What is amazing about that book is the writing. That is the way it is with this one.

Let me give you an example so you know what I am talking about.

The lot was empty, with the exception of a swayback blue Pontiac parked in front of the cabin (a wooden sign slapped crookedly over the door like a Band-Aid: MAIN) and a rusty towable trailer ("Lonesome Dreams") chucked under an evangelist oak tree. (It was in the midst of some violent enlightenment, branches stretched heavenward as if to grab hold of His feet.) A white sky ironed, starched, folded itself primly behind the rolling mountains. Garbage floated across the lot, cryptic messages in bottles: Santa Fe Ranch Lay's potato chips, Thomas' English Muffins, a frayed purple ribbon. Sometime in the last week or so, it had sleeted cigarette butts.

The two visuals I like most in the preceding paragraph is the tree and the cigarette butts. I don't know about any of you, but I know I would never had thought to describe these ordinary sights in such an avant-garde manner.

The other major point of note is that everything is cited with a literary reference. The title of each chapter is a novel. Whenever she quotes, which is often, she uses an inline parenthetical reference. Some, I am sure, are fictitious, but others, I know, are not. It is immensely impressive. I wonder if Marisha Pessl actually read all of these books that she references. I like to think that I have read a lot of the classics, but I seriously pale in comparison. I wish I understood all of the references. It makes you want to run right out to the library and read them all.

This book was billed as a coming of age story and I love me a coming of age story (see Catcher in the Rye, Salinger, 1951), but that is not how I would classify it at all. I would put it with the mysteries (Doyle, Christie). I am glad, though, that I did not know it was a mystery because I would have passed right over it. This is more than the run of the mill whodunit. It is not a straight forward Professor Plum killed Mr. Boddy in the Study with the Rope. In this book, you not only wonder who the murderer is, but who was murdered. Every time the main character, Blue, comes close to an answer, it unearths ten more questions. Just when you think you know which direction the book is heading, you turn the page and they spin you right round, baby, right round.

It is a great book. I would recommend it to fans of coming of age books, mysteries, and classical literature. And be sure to take notes - there is a test at the end!

Sunday, September 6, 2009

September in Salem is an unique time. My son and I donned our coats and headed downtown. As we walked around there were not many people out. It was a Sunday morning so people were either at church or still sleeping. Or maybe it was just too cold.

There was a kind of electricity in the air. A potential energy. The city was resting up and preparing for the madness that waits up ahead.

Halloween is just a night at the end of October for most of you. But to us, Halloween is a month long celebration. It is full of costumes, bazaars, concerts, parades, balls, and hot chocolate.

Not today though.

As I sat alongside the fountain on Essex watching Ryder run around, I couldn’t help but think about how in only one month’s time that will not be possible. There will be far too many people. I wonder how the trolleys will get through the masses. How did they last year? We have been seeing more and more trolley tours lately and surely the walking tours will soon begin to block traffic again.

Around lunchtime, the city began to come alive. The venders setup their sausage and lemonade stands. It had warmed up and people started coming out of hiding. You can tell the residents from the tourists. The residents are not carrying maps and are not wearing shirts that say “Salem.” The tourist for now remain the history buffs. There will be a different set of people visiting soon.

Samantha’s is getting busier with people planning out their costumes. For most of you, costumes are something you wear once a year, maybe to a party. Costumes here are to be worn the whole month of October. Some wear them year-round. In one short month, everyone will be looking like someone else.

As we headed home for a much needed nap, we crunched through some fallen leaves. When did this happen? I think about how I am not sure if I am ready to let summer go. That is what September is in Salem. September is the link between summer and Halloween. That electricity in the air? I believe that is the calm before the storm.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Here are five movie quotes that I actually say in real life. And I've included the videos in case you don't remember them!

1. "Quick! Like a bunny!" Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas(6:04) I literally say this every day. Every. Day. To my son, coworkers, other drivers. My sister says it now and didn't know it wasn't something everyone said. Just me, I guess.

2. "Never say never." An American Tail I loved this movie when I was a kid. I could never get over the duplicity of this statement though.

3. "Curiouser and curiouser." Alice in Wonderland (5:38) This one is classic. And surprisingly fits into many situations.

4. "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" Clerks (11:18) Haha This one cracks me up every time!

5. "If I'm not back in 10 minutes call the police." Half Baked(9:05) I mentioned before that Ive watched this movie, but I didn't describe the love. The total love. There are many other quotes from this movie, but this is the one I use as if I made it up.

There's my Friday High Five. You should play along with me over at Angela's!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

When I became a newly single mother, everyone suggested that I "go out and meet people." I didn't know many people in the area. I work in the city, I'm not very social, yadda yadda. So, I went online to find some mother groups.

Problem #1: Play groups meet during the week, during the day, while I am working.

Problem #2: All Most of the mothers were stay at home moms with husbands who bring home lots and lots of money. They do play groups because they need something to fill their time with.

Problem #3: I have nothing in common with these women. I literally heard one woman complain that her diaper bag was too small. It was a Coach diaper bag. Seriously. Shut up about your $300 diaper bag being too small. I don't know care about it when I don't know how I'm gonna pay the electric bill.

So to solve #1, I decided to host a play date at my house on a Saturday morning. One of the two women that were coming invited Ryder and I over the night before for corned beef and cabbage. Who can say no to that?

I don't know this woman's real name. I have seriously been calling her Sticky Carpet Lady since the day I met her. Her carpet was really sticky. It was the first thing I noticed when I came in. Gross. She had this beautiful apartment but it was dirty. She had two kids and I only have one, so I tried not to judge.

She did not watch her children. At. All. One of the children was a couple of months old and the other was two years old. They were in a completely different room the whole time. Again, trying really hard not to judge. She gave her child a tomato. When the kid came back over with tomato on his face, SCL wiped it off and then wiped her hand on her pants. I was judging now.

She finished cooking and invited me to help myself. She kept the corned beef in the pot that it was cooked in and handed me one of those giant spoons and fork. The kind that you toss salad with. I could not for the life of me figure out how I was going to get a portion of this meal onto my plate. Some how I did something because I quickly ate and then quickly left.

The next day was the play date at moi's house. The other lady rocked. I really liked her. SCL, on the other hand sucked. SCL shows up with her two year old and a happy meal. My son doesn't eat happy meals, but I know some parents allow it. She offered it to our children and we politely declined. She then offered our one year olds dum dum pops. Umm... No. Choking hazard - have you heard of it?

Like the night before she did not watch her child. He terrorized my dog. My dog was so upset that she peed all over the place when they left. He was playing with my gas oven and SCL didn't even bother to check if the gas was off. I offered the women drinks. And being adults, I gave SCL a glass (not a tumbler) which she proceeded to give to her two year old who then ran around the house with it. I nearly had a heart attack.

Finally when play time was over, the boy didn't want to go. So she bribed him with root beer. I do not think that that boy needed any more sugar in his diet.

That was my first and last play date at my house. I found out later that to avoid such situations, a lot of the women tell all their friends about the play dates before they post them, so that when they do post them, it fills right up. Bitches.

I have seen SCL around town a few times since and I have literally hid from her. Like behind buildings. She called a few times and I had deleted her number so I picked up. Doh! I blew her off though.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

When I was younger one of the cooler things to do was to dress up real nice and go down to the beach. Then we would walk up and down the boardwalk all night long. We were too young to get into any of the bars or clubs so it was the sidewalk for us. On a good night we would meet some nice boys to party with. On a bad night, we'd walk up and down all night long.

This night was one of the latter. Maybe it was off season? I don't remember, I just know that there were not many people down there that night.

My girlfriend and I were walking down the street and a truck drove by shouting catcalls. We ignored it. Two bike cops pedalled up.

Cop: Did that truck just yell at you?

Me: I don't know, I guess.

Cop: Do you want us to get them for you?

My GF looked at them, looked at their bikes, looked at them, pointed down the street and said "If you think you can catch them."

We laughed and the cops muttered something about them coming back and rode off.